


goodnight, goodnight

by lovelyleias



Category: Deltora Quest - Emily Rodda
Genre: Post-Canon, far far in the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 17:15:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13617966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyleias/pseuds/lovelyleias
Summary: Endon’s entrance was so sudden that Jarred leapt to his feet, so startled that he nearly knocked over his chair. Even the splendid blue of Endon’s captain’s uniform could not brighten the terrible pallor of his face. His mouth opened and closed again, and Jarred’s heart pounded like a drum in his chest. Finally, Endon managed to croak out what he had come to say.“Father is dead.”





	goodnight, goodnight

Jarred rose well before the sun, woken by an odd feeling in his belly. It was a familiar feeling, one he had first felt when he was nine years old. He had complained of a bellyache, and his father had kept him home from school. Later that day, his mother’s forehead had been grazed by a brick that fell from a half-finished storefront. Had she been any closer, she might have been killed.

“It could be his Toran blood,” his grandmother had said, as she wiped blood off his mother’s face with a warm cloth in the cottage. “It might give him an intuition.”

Jasmine had met Jarred’s frightened eyes and shook her head. “It was just an accident,” she had said soothingly. Jarred had cried himself to sleep that night, and the scar on his mother’s brow never quite faded. 

This feeling of things to come had followed him through out his life. It did not always signify anything bad, but it always warned him of something unexpected. He had felt it once before his grandfather came to Del for an unexpected visit; before his brother’s first love broke his heart; before his sister went into labour.

He swung his legs out of bed, and rubbed his palms into his bleary eyes; he had never been able to fall back asleep once he had woken. The feeling did not always mean anything significant. Perhaps he would break his favourite teacup, perhaps Endon would accidentally take a blow while working with his trainees, perhaps Marilen would be too tired to shelve the new books Min had sent from the east. Perhaps today the feeling would mean nothing at all. 

Rather than lay in bed and worry, Jarred pushed away his blankets and dressed quickly. He splashed cold water on his face from the basin in the kitchen of his little house, and gazed at his reflection in the mirror. He had turned forty-three the week before. His hair was greying at the temples, and where Endon’s grey hairs made him look rather elegant, Jarred thought his own just made him look bedraggled. If their family was not so famous, strangers would never guess that they were twins. Endon’s face had always been boyish and eager, while Jarred’s was long and solemn. The dark eyes that stared back at him in the mirror were every bit his father’s, but for as long as he could remember, everyone had said he was his mother’s reflection embodied. 

“You have always looked so much like her,” his father had said, not yet two years before, as the last of Jasmine’s ashes disappeared with the breeze before the Forests of Silence. The summer leaves rustled, as if singing her home.

Jarred had gripped his father’s shoulder and sighed. Lief had not been the same since Jasmine died. He still met with his people, laughed with the friends he had left, and doted upon his grandchildren. But Jasmine had held half of his heart, and that half had died with her. Jarred had always thought his parents love was beautiful— and it was— but there were dangers that came with loving so deeply. 

Jarred shook his head and stepped out of his little house. Although it was still dark, the early morning air was already soothing and warm. He trudged up the hill toward the palace. The guards stationed by the entrance nodded to their prince, and let him pass through the huge doors into the great hall. The sound of laughter came from the kitchen, where the cooks were preparing breakfast for the palace’s many inhabitants, but the wide halls were empty.

Jarred yawned as he reached the library’s ornate doors. He bungled his first attempt to fit his key into the lock with his bleary eyes, but it slid home in the second. The watery light of the dying moon filtered through the massive windows, casting a silvery glow on the magnificent dragon paintings on the walls. He brewed some tea and took it to his office, and pulled Min’s most recent travel diary from a drawer in his desk. She always sent all her journals to him upon completion, providing the Deltoran Annals with fascinating insights from lands across the seas. 

The tea did little to soothe his stomach, but the work took his mind away from it. Pale sunlight began to shine into the grand library, and a few palace inhabitants entered to peruse the books, but Jarred noticed neither, for his work fully consumed him. Anna had taken to the forge, Endon had taken to the sword, but Jarred’s love had always been for books.

He was reading Min’s account of a tribe she had met whose upper bodies looked perfectly normal, but whose bottom halves were that of giant fishtails. He had grinned with delight when Min went into the detail of the scales— _scales!_ — that patterned the sides of their faces, but his academic joy evaporated when his brother burst through the open door of his office, ripping his attention away from the diary. 

Endon’s entrance was so sudden that Jarred leapt to his feet, so startled that he nearly knocked over his chair. Even the splendid blue of Endon’s captain’s uniform could not brighten the terrible pallor of his face. His mouth opened and closed again, and Jarred’s heart pounded like a drum in his chest. Finally, Endon managed to croak out what he had come to say.

“Father is dead.”

—

Jasmine had taken a long, hard month to die, but at least they had been able to say goodbye.

It had felt wrong to see his fierce, brilliant mother spend her last weeks in her bed; like keeping a bird trapped in a box. They had all been sure to keep the windows and curtains in the bedroom wide open, but it was not enough.

“Do not bury me on the hill,” Jarred had heard her rasp to Lief one night, as he was about to enter the bedroom with fresh cups of tea. “Give my body to the fire, and spread my ashes in the wind, like we did with my father.”

“Yes, my love,” Lief had whispered. Jarred had left them alone.

On Jasmine’s last day she had even sat up in bed, smiling as Anna’s youngest daughter told her a schoolyard story. She died that evening, with the sounds of her family’s loving voices in her ears, her husband’s hand in her own, and a small smile on her face. 

It had hurt, _oh_ , it had hurt. 

But at least they had _known._

_—_

Lief had been half-deified by his people before the age of twenty. Even for Jarred— who saw him for who he was, not what he had done— it seemed as if he was untouchable. But time carved lines into his flesh, threaded grey and white into his hair, and death cared nothing for heroes.

It had been Anna who found him, Endon had said, as Jarred held onto his desk for support. Anna, who arrived to work at the forge, and opened the cottage door to say good morning to their father. She had not found him in the kitchen, where he usually had an early morning cup of tea. She had called his name, and heard nothing, wondering if perhaps he had gone to palace. But when she pushed open the bedroom door, she had found him lying neatly under his blankets, looking as peaceful as he must have when he had fallen asleep.

And now Jarred stumbled blindly after his brother, as they hurried out of the palace. There was a ringing in his ears, and his vision blurred. He grabbed Endon’s wrist and pulled him to a halt.

“Stop—” Jarred gasped, pulling hard on Endon’s arm. Endon swung around with wild eyes, and Jarred staggered away and pressed his back against the palace wall. His legs were shaking and he knew if he took another step he would fall.

Endon’s surprise faded, and he gripped Jarred’s shoulders. “Easy, Jarred,” he said as Jarred took gulping breaths. His green eyes were steady, and his firm grip was grounding. Slowly, Jarred’s breathing steadied and his legs felt a little stronger.

“We have to go to Anna, she is all alone,” Endon’s voice broke on his last word, and Jarred could see the pain in his eyes. He felt ashamed. Endon was protecting him, as he done since they were children.

“Yes,” Jarred whispered, his heart aching. 

They managed to reach the city without seeing anyone they knew. But Del had woken up. The shouting of the vendors hurt Jarred’s ears, and he was nearly tripped by a group of children hurrying to a schoolhouse. All around him people chattered and laughed, enjoying the sunny morning. A few called out greetings to the princes, but neither of the men paid any attention as they hurried through the streets.

_How could they not know?_ Jarred thought. _How could they not feel the loss in their bones?_

Finally, they reached the gate of the forge. The cottage door was still open; Endon had not bothered to close it in his haste to reach the library. 

Out of habit, Jarred stooped to avoid hitting his head when he stepped into the kitchen. He jerked his head up, remembering that the drying herbs that had once dangled from the ceiling had not been hung since his mother died.

He and Endon entered their father’s little bedroom. Lief looked as if he still slept, and Jarred dearly wished he could reach down and shake him awake. 

Anna sat in a hard-backed chair beside the bed, holding Lief’s hand. She turned to them as they entered, blinking her swollen eyes. She rose from the chair and embraced them both with a choked sob.

“I know he lived a long life,” her voice was thick with tears, “but I was not ready.”

Jarred felt his own tears wet his sister’s hair. She released them, and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. Jarred tore away and knelt by Lief’s side. He brushed a knuckle against his father’s cheek. His skin was a familiar map of wrinkles and scars, but he was far too cold.

“Have you told Hord?” Endon asked softly.

“No,” Anna’s voice—usually so confident— was tiny and sad. “I could not bear to leave Father again. It was hard enough crossing the road to wake you.”

“I am sorry,” Endon rubbed a hand over his face. “I did not even think to fetch your husband.”

Anna shook her head and returned to her chair on Jarred’s other side. “I am just glad you are both here,” She took Lief’s hand again. “Does Malin know?

“No, I left him sleeping,” Endon said. “All that was on my mind was finding Jarred. I told no one else.”

The weight of this awful secret was very heavy upon Jarred’ shoulders. He knew they should be doing _something,_ but the all he wanted to do was stay in that cramped bedroom with his family. He could not look away from his father’s lifeless face.

Anna sniffled and rubbed her thumb against Lief’s hand. “You might have been too young to remember, but he once jested that we all took such a long time to learn to walk, because he and Mother could not bear to be parted from us, and so they carried us where ever they went.”

“I remember,” a small smile ghosted Endon’s face, and he sat on the edge of the bed. Jarred recalled too, how their father’s eyes in that moment had sparkled with equal parts laughter and love. 

Anna’s eyes filled with tears again. “I know they suffered much, but they hardly ever showed us their pain, did they not? All they wanted was for us to be happy and feel loved.”

Jarred leaned over from his seat on the floor so that his head rested on Anna’s shoulder. “We were,” he said softly. “We are.”

His lovely sister was the queen now. For some reason the realization startled him. But Anna had always been guided by Lief; had always been prepared for this day. He met Endon’s gaze, and knew he was thinking the same.

“What is next?” Anna asked simply. 

“The Belt, Anna,” Jarred said gently. “We must take the Belt and show the people—”

“No,” she said fiercely, every bit their mother. She took a deep breath, and her face softened. “Let it be here. I want it to be here, and I do not want anyone else to see.”

Endon frowned. “Should I get Hord and your children?”

“No,” she said again. “Just us, please… and Father. One last time.” 

Jarred took her hand and kissed her cheek. She gave him a nearly imperceivable nod and rose to her feet. With gentle, trembling hands, she peeled back Lief’s blankets. He looked vulnerable in death, not at all like the clever and loving man he had been. Slowly, so slowly, she unbuckled the Belt from around his nightclothes and draped it in her arms. It was beautiful: delicate in appearance, but so very powerful. 

She looked up at her brothers, her face a tale of pain and fear, and leaned over to brush a lock of Lief’s white hair from his brow. “I cannot give our people all that you did,” she whispered. “But I will give them all that I can.” 

Jarred and Endon rose together as Anna stretched the Belt over her grey dress. With a quiet sigh, she locked the clasp into place. Dazzling light erupted from her body and the sound of a crackling fire seemed to fill the room. It lasted only a moment, and Jarred blinked the stars from his eyes as the light faded. 

Anna touched the Belt with uncertain fingers. It looked so oddly magnificent against her grey dress. She looked back at her brothers, and although she was well into her forties she suddenly looked very young. Endon stepped forward and pressed his hand to his heart. 

“My sword and my guards are all now at your service,” he said so seriously that Jarred almost wanted to laugh. 

Anna managed a smile. “Thank you, Captain,” she said, and Jarred could even hear the hint of teasing in her voice. 

Jarred reached forward and took Anna’s hand as if they were children. She squeezed it hard. After a moment, Endon threaded his fingers through his free hand, and together they gazed upon the body of their dear father.

Jarred thought about the simple graveyard on the palace hill. Both of his grandparents on his father’s side were buried there, and there were beautiful memorial stones for his mother and her parents. Jasmine’s was carved in the form of an oak tree that came up to Jarred’s hip. 

“We will bury him on the hill,” Jarred said after a moment. “Beside Mother’s stone. He would want to be with her.”

“We need to tell the rest of the family,” Endon said reluctantly, “and then announce it to the city.”

“I must be the one to summon the people,” Anna’s voice was firm. “They need to hear it from me.”

“We should begun now,” Endon said as the siblings untangled their hands. “Someone might have seen the light.”

“Wait,” panic rose in Jarred’s throat like bile. “Are we leaving him alone? I thought we were not leaving him alone!” 

“Just for a moment,” Anna soothed, even as her own eyes welled again with tears. “We must gather our families, Jarred. We _must_ do this together.”

Jarred looked at Endon, whose was creased with sadness.“It is going to hurt, Jarred. But we must tell Deltora that Father is dead, and bring the rest of the family to say goodbye.”

Jarred took a deep breath. His heart begged him to stay, but he knew it would be selfish to wait in the forge while Anna and Endon went to share their heartbreak with the world. _Together,_ Anna had said. They would do what had to be done together.

He stepped back to the bed and stood over Lief’s body. With a soft sigh, he bent down and kissed his brow.

“Sleep well, Father.”


End file.
